Chapter 8 · On Our Seventh Anniversary, I Heard What My Husband Told My Sister

Chapter 8

By the time I slipped quietly back into the suburban villa through the rear entrance, dusk had already fallen.At seven o'clock sharp, the front door unlocked.Ethan was home.He slipped off his tailored suit jacket, a hint of weariness from business meetings lingering on his face. But as he crossed the living room toward me on the sofa, that flawless mask of tenderness snapped right back into place.Sitting down beside me, he took my slightly cold hand in his, pulled his phone from his briefcase, and smoothly typed a line before holding the screen before my eyes:[How did the follow-up go today? Any better than last time?]The glow of the screen flickered in the dimly lit living room.I raised my eyes, letting my gaze fall obediently upon the fine lines at the corners of his eyes, allowing an appropriate touch of vulnerability and dejection to show.Picking up the pen from the coffee table, I wrote slowly in the blank margin of the notepad:"I still need further evaluations. It's too early to draw conclusions."As Ethan read the line, a barely perceptible trace of relief washed deep within his eyes.Opening his arms, he pulled me tenderly into his embrace, resting his chin lightly atop my head.Leaning against his broad chest, my ear pressed flat against his dress shirt.Through the layers of cloth, flesh, and bone, I could distinctly hear the steady thrum of his heartbeat, accompanied by his low, sympathetic, yet utterly emotionless sigh:"It doesn't matter, Claire. No matter how long treatment takes, I will always be right by your side."Knowing full well I supposedly couldn't hear him, why would he still utter such words? Could he possibly still harbor some love for me?I buried my head lower against his chest, the downcast gaze of my eyes remaining utterly still and undisturbed in the dim light.On Saturday evening, a light drizzle settled over Boston.I chose the seaside restaurant in the Seaport District for our dinner.Back when we were dating, Ethan had rented out the entire outdoor terrace here to propose to me.During the early years of our marriage, whenever his company secured a major investment round, he would always bring me here to share a bottle of champagne.Back then, the ocean breeze brushing against our faces had always felt warm.Now, separated by thick floor-to-ceiling glass, the Atlantic Ocean outside was reduced to cold, bleak, rolling waves.Ethan arrived right on time.He took off his charcoal overcoat, hung it over the back of his chair, and carried the faint scent of rain, a hint of undisguised curiosity on his face.After all, ever since the accident had taken my hearing, I had barely been willing to step foot outside the house.Pulling out the chair opposite me, he sat down, routinely took out his phone, and began typing away on the screen.[What made you want to come here all of a sudden? Is the tinnitus feeling better today?]I reached out, my fingertips pressing lightly against the top edge of his phone screen, cutting his typing short.Then, I took a hardcover journal from my bag and turned to a crisp, blank page.With my fountain pen, I wrote a line slowly across the paper:"Let's skip the phones today. Let's communicate differently—look at me when you speak."Ethan's eyes flickered slightly as he read the words.Then, slipping into his practiced, tender smile, he gave an earnest nod and placed his phone face down near the edge of the table.The waiter served two glasses of sparkling water along with the appetizers.The dinner knives scraped faintly against the porcelain plates.In this quiet setting, my hearing could already pick up most ambient sounds; the tinnitus had dwindled to a low, distant hum, as if filtered through a thin veil.Setting down my fork and knife, I lifted my chin, looking straight into the eyes I had gazed upon for seven long years.Then, I wrote a second sentence on the paper and slid it in front of him:"Ethan, if this marriage has become exhausting and you no longer wish to continue, you can tell me directly."

Chapter 8